


by moonlight

by threeplusfire



Series: Bad Things Come In Threes [14]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, M/M, Nudity, Urban Magic Yogs, criminal activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3996406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/pseuds/threeplusfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from "the middle place between light and nowhere." Ross is curious about what Smith looks like, so they visit a river.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> I received a really enthusiastic message from a reader asking about this moment. What began as a couple hundred word response soon demanded to be made into its own scene. Thanks to Leon for insightful commentary as always.

Street lights streaked across the windshield, and Smith took a corner a little faster than necessary. The car held the road though. He grinned. Apparently those fancy tires were worth it.

“Where are we going?” Ross asked, looking out the window. 

“Somewhere with some room,” Smith said. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and reached over to flip the radio to something else. They’d found a car on a street a few blocks from home, a perfectly lovely brand new sports car. It still smelled new, all plastic, leather, and chrome. There was even a little horse in the logo, and Smith thought it was meant to be his for the night. The owner didn’t seem to have much taste in music though, as it was just a factory stereo and there wasn’t a single cd in the car. Smith cranked the catchy pop song on the radio. 

Ross looked over at him, something lazy about the slow way he turned his head and pushed down the hood of his favorite red hoodie. His tail wasn’t quite keeping time to the beat. He’d moved the seat as far back as it could go, but he still looked too big for the car.

“How much room do you need? Are you a giant?” 

“Shut up,” Smith grumbled. “You up past your bedtime already?”

Ross blinked, and his gaze sharpened.

“Look if you don’t want-”

“It’s not that,” Smith cut him off. They whipped through a yellow light, Smith flooring the accelerator to speed around another car slowing down for the turn. Someone honked, and Smith raised his middle finger out the window. 

“You see many horses on these streets, mate?” he continued, weaving around other cars in his way. “It would be a little weird, and it’s not like there’s room in the apartment to run around.”

Ross smiled, and flopped his tail into Smith’s lap.

“Watch where you put that!” Smith yelped.

“What?” Ross protested, fighting a smile. He looked back out the window, watching the night. They took the ramp onto the highway, and cruised through the evening traffic towards the far southern side of the city. The buildings gave way slowly to hills, the road cut through their sides. Smith leaned back, one hand on the wheel. 

The road noise and the radio lulled Ross into a doze. He woke up to the sound of the car door opening. Blinking, he registered the dark little parking lot surrounded by trees. Smith stood beside the car, slowly pulling off his boots and dropping them in the driver’s seat. He took a deep breath, holding it as he shimmied out of his jeans. 

Ross climbed out of the car, and tugged his hoodie off. He carelessly pulled off his boots, and only remembered to drop his clothes inside the car at the last moment. Naked, Ross leaned against the hood of the car to soak up the warmth of the engine. Miles of sloping woods and not very tall mountains stretched away from the tiny parking lot. Ross knew there was a better word to describe them but couldn’t remember it. Little, worn mountains pressed down closer to the horizon and covered in trees. The ranger’s booth was locked up tight for the evening. Ross wondered if there was a single person for miles. The air was chilly, and he could smell water, the tiny green leaves on the trees, the mud and the stones. Smith joined him, grinning. 

“This feels like some bad horror movie, where teenagers go out to the woods to fuck and then get eaten by something.” Ross laughed softly into Smith’s hair, putting his arms around him. Smith settled, his back to Ross’ chest. 

“We’re the monsters though,” Smith said, amused. “We could just fuck in the car, and save the bother.”

Ross hummed, and carefully curled his tail around Smith’s leg. He kissed the back of Smith’s neck. The cooling engine ticked, the faintest hiss. 

“Alright, time for your show.” Smith stepped away from the car, arms stretched out wide. He smiled at Ross over his shoulder, and then the air started to shimmer around him. Ross startled, surprised by how fast it was. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, how it would look. But between one blink and the next, Smith was different.

Smith watched him with large, dark eyes. He tossed his head and whickered, a surprisingly soft sound. He gleamed, a pale grey in the moonlight that was like bone or maybe even marble. His legs shaded into black at his hooves. Smith tossed his head, shaking the long mane of darker hair.

“Wow,” Ross said, wonder in his voice. He stretched out his hand, and Smith nuzzled him before he bit Ross’ fingers with big, strong teeth. 

“Fuck, Smith!” Ross yanked his hand back, and Smith snorted. It sounded suspiciously like laughter. His bridle caught the moonlight, decorated with bright bits of silver. Shaking away the sting, Ross wished now they’d gone out during the day for this, to see Smith in the sunlight. Ross watched Smith stretch his legs, pacing around the car. His hooves crunched through the gravel. 

Ross stretched up, feeling the magic in the air drifting around them. Smith bumped him with his nose, breath hot on Ross’ shoulder. Ross eyed his soft nose and sharp teeth, and he would swear Smith laughed at him again.

“Alright, ready whenever you are.” Ross bent forward a little, tail swishing. Smith flicked his tail and danced to the side, lining himself up with Ross. He jerked his head, seeming to gesture at the trees and the little trail visible across the lot. Ross could just make out a sign indicating a trail down to the river, and a slightly smaller sign about not littering.

“To the river?” Ross asked. Smith whickered, scuffing his hoof along the ground. Then he bolted for the path, hooves kicking up loose gravel. Ross cursed, and launched himself after Smith.

They crashed down the trail, weaving between the trees. The narrow path slowed them down, forcing them to dodge branches and navigate the uneven ground in the darkness. Smith’s tail streamed out behind him, a reddish black banner. Ross loped after him, resisting the urge to reach out and grab it.

When they burst out into a field, Smith picked up speed. Neck stretched forward, he galloped full tilt down the slope with Ross close at his heels. The wind picked up, blowing from the east with the scent of the river. Ross’ tail whipped behind him as he bounded behind Smith. He didn’t think he was going to win this race. But the running was so joyful, he didn’t even care. Smith leaped a ditch, effortlessly sailing across the gap. Ross vaulted after him, rolling when he hit the other side. At the river, Smith splashed down into the water with a loud whinny. 

“You win,” Ross panted. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the water, his breath fast and shallow from the exertion. He watched Smith prance through the shallows, and then leap back up the bank. Ross followed him, bare feet digging into the soft earth.

Moonlight turned Smith into a silver shadow. They raced in circles, wide figure eights and zig zags through the field. Ross chased him, watching Smith run with delight. He’d never given much thought to horses. He didn’t see them very often in the church. Birds, yes. Sometimes dogs, or cats. Sometimes other small things, creeping through the long grass of the church yard. The bats that moved into the bell tower in the summer. But now Ross could admire the shift of muscles, Smith’s easy power and speed. 

Smith eventually tired of running laps around the slope. Ross watched him slow to a trot. He couldn’t help but laugh when Smith threw himself down to roll back and forth in the grass. Ross could smell the sharp sweetness of crushed leaves, the dirt and the new grass. Smith kicked his feet up and chuffed. It was not nearly as graceful as his running. After a moment he clambered to his feet and trotted back to where Ross stood.

“Feel better?” asked Ross. Smith bumped him with his nose, and Ross reached up to comb the bits of grass out of Smith’s mane with his fingers. Overhead the full moon shone bright as any street lamp. Smith leaned a bit into Ross, heavy and warm. Next time, Ross thought, he’d find a brush. Smith would probably like that. Ross scratched his fingers down Smith’s back.

They walked back down to the river. It was wide here, cold with melted snow. Smith ambled easily down into the water, wading deeper towards the center of the river. Ross dipped his tail into the water, hissing at the startling chill.

Smith turned to look at him. He was darker now, black spreading across his coat in ripples as he walked against the current. The change made him seem thinner, sharper somehow. Ross sank down, crouching on his heels and letting his hands grip one of the big rocks at the edge of the water for balance. Smith stepped closer to the bank, staring with his enormous eyes. He looked stranger now, more grim and threatening. His eyes glowed with a greenish, unnatural fire. He shook his head, his mane rippling wet and glistening. Ross stared, transfixed by the sight. 

Smith turned and dropped into the river, disappearing below the surface. There were little ripples, breaking the silvery surface. It was quiet, utterly peaceful. Hopefully there were not any other kelpies or fae around to disturb. Ross watched the water, waiting for some sign. He wondered how deep it was down there. Slowly, he eased back to sit cross legged on the bank while he waited for Smith to come back. 

“Don’t you want to come swim?” Smith called from somewhere out in the darkness. 

“You know I can’t swim,” Ross answered, a little regretfully. “And Trott always says not to swim with you anyways.”

“Fucking kill joy selkie bastard,” Smith complained. Ross heard a splash, and tried to imagine Smith out there swimming. Sometimes they went to the water in the warmer months. He liked to watch Smith and Trott play fight, knocking each other down and splashing. His favorite thing was to lounge on a big chunk of limestone in the sun, drowsy in the heat of the sun.

Smith stepped out of the river, once more in human form. Dripping, he dropped down beside Ross, and climbed into his lap. Ross wrapped one arm around Smith’s waist, and brushed away a strand of water weed clinging to Smith’s arm. 

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” Smith’s voice was muffled as he spoke into Ross’ skin. He tucked his head against the curve of Ross’ neck. Cold water dripped down his back.

“You’re a very beautiful horse,” Ross said quite seriously. “Are you always the same horse?”

“Mostly,” Smith answered. 

“You’re always the same man.”

“I can be other men. Or women. Or whatever.” Smith shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. 

“I like you the way you are.”

“Good.” 

“How come I’ve never seen you like this, as a horse?” Ross asked. 

“Not much use hunting in the city as a horse, mate.”

“I guess so.” Ross dug up stones with his tail, and tossed them into the water. The splashes were gratifying. Smith wrapped his arms around Ross’ ribs. He was surprisingly warm even after his dip in the river. They sat there, listening to night birds and the running water.

“Still,” Ross slyly commented. “I’d think you would go for the body with the biggest dick.”

Smith groaned, and rubbed his face into Ross’ shoulder.

“Do you want to fuck the horse?”

“Nah,” Ross shook his head, maintaining a straight face. “I’m good.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Smith muttered. “Everyone thinks they’re so fucking funny.” He stretched his legs, kicking his feet a little. He shifted, pushing Ross back to make himself a little more comfortable. Ross rested his chin on Smith’s head. He smelled like water, and something very green.

“Sorry,” Ross whispered. “Didn’t mean to make you feel self conscious about your giant horse cock.”

“I don’t make fun of your glass junk.” 

“Because I’m very aesthetically pleasing,” Ross said, struggling not to laugh. “Art, even. Religious art. Would be sacrilegious to make fun of me.”

Smith shoved Ross flat on his back, and stretched out on top of him. Ross pulled his tail around, draping it over Smith’s hips. He wriggled a little, making himself as comfortable as he could get. They laid tangled together, touching from head to foot. Ross stroked a hand down Smith’s back, thinking he could stay like this for years, or at least until dawn.

“I think all the things you like me to do are sacrilegious,” Smith said in a mournful voice. “We’re doomed.”

“Going to hell, no doubt.” Ross brushed wet hair out of Smith’s face. “Might as well enjoy ourselves until then.”

“That’s all we can do,” Smith murmured, planting his elbows in the dirt on either side of Ross’ head. They kissed for a long time, slow and more gentle than they usually were with each other.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The "not very tall mountains" phrase may initially read very strange. A long time ago, I saw a performance from a Czech band visiting the US. One of the members referred to our local hill country as the "not very tall mountains" and the phrase stuck with me. 
> 
> Smith's comments about his presentation were one of my favorite happy accidents while writing and I could talk about that forever.


End file.
